I hadn’t heard from Anthony for three or four days. I had tried to reach him but just got his voice mail. Worried that something might have happened to him, I wandered down to 19th and M on Tuesday morning.
Leaning up against the brightly colored newspaper boxes that anchor the corner there, Anthony was talking with a parking enforcement employee. “You are just the person that I need to see my friend,” he belted out when I dropped my backpack on the curb next to his own bag.
It turns out four days earlier Anthony accidentally dropped his phone into a toilet. “Oh man…it’s dead. Continue reading